


Three Nights

by zizis



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-11 22:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15981911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zizis/pseuds/zizis
Summary: Just a little angst free drabble AU in which very little actually happens.  Three stand alone nights.





	1. The Cotswolds

**Author's Note:**

> All three places exist. Or did. As did the reactions/receptions received. The rest however is pure speculation.
> 
> Please excuse the time line. I have deviated for the sake of the seasons.

It is their first minibreak together. As a couple. The thought thrills Serena. They have travelled such a rocky road. They need a reward. A moment together away from the hurly burly. Away from the gossip, the knowing smirks of colleagues. Just the two of them. Oh yes. The thought thrills Serena.

She’s found the most beautiful B&B. At least it looked beautiful on the screen of her lap top. A sandstone cottage on the edge of a small Cotswold village, set amongst walled gardens surrounded by fields. A pub about a half mile down the road which serves good food. Near enough to walk to, and back. Perfect for a bottle or two of shiraz. She’s spoken to the owner. To make sure it is just right. It sounds perfect. He’s assured her that they will have a lovely double room. Triple aspect windows. Ensuite. Very quiet. Away from the other guests. He asks for details of her likely eta so that he can be there to greet them. He has the manner of military efficiency about him. She thinks maybe Bernie will appreciate this.

Bernie drives. They meander down little country roads that seem to curl round on themselves. Past fields blushed through with poppies. Serena selects the music, and Bernie lets her without question. This is new. They are still cautiously polite with each other.

They get a little lost but neither cares. They have the other by their side and that’s all they need. Serena muses to herself that she has never felt so complete just as a result of being with another person. With Bernie. Bernie takes a side look at Serena, and beams. She feels it too.

As they finally drive up the gravel driveway in the late afternoon sun, a slim well dressed man, with a, most definitely military, moustache strides towards them in greeting. Serena gets out of the car.

“Ah Mrs Campbell. Welcome.”

He stretches out his hand to shake hers, which she proffers in return. He smiles.

“Good journey ? You brought lovely weather with….” And suddenly he comes to an abrupt halt.

Bernie has released the boot catch and has climbed out of the car. Her sunglasses pushed back onto the top of her head, smoothing her thick blonde locks back from her face. She flashes a smile at him.

As they reflect later, it is almost as if he visibly pales. At first Serena wonders whether he recognises Bernie from somewhere. But Bernie recognises this reaction for what it is. He wasn’t expecting her. A “her”.

He recovers himself. But the enthusiasm and warmth has disappeared. He forgets, or declines, to offer to carry the bags. Bernie says nothing as she carries them herself. She doesn’t want to spoil anything for Serena. Hopes Serena hasn’t noticed anything. He shows them, or rather Serena, to their room. He is ignoring Bernie’s existence.

 

*************

 

The room is just as lovely as Serena hoped. He doesn’t linger long. Mumbles something about the time breakfast will be served and then beats a hasty retreat.

Serena sits down on the bed and flings herself back onto the crisp white duvet.

“It’s lovely and firm,” she announces, quirking an eye brow.

Bernie follows her, climbing astride her, bending down to kiss her, before flopping down to lie beside her. She takes Serena’s hand and squeezes it.

“Alone at last.”

“Is it ok ?”

“It’s perfect Serena. Just perfect.”

They lie there, side by side, heads turned towards each other, just smiling. This is real. It is actually happening. A stillness. No rush. It is enough just to look.

After a while Serena sits up.

“Is it just me, or did our host seem a bit….distracted ?”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Yes. That. He seemed fine and then….”

“.…he saw me.”

Serena looks puzzled. Bernie feels sad. She is about to shatter Serena’s innocence. Serena is new to this. Bernie has been here before.

“He wasn’t expecting two women, Serena,” she clarifies gently.

“Oh.”

She hears the disappointment in Serena’s voice. Yes their relationship is now common knowledge at work, but gossip though there may be, they’ve not experienced overt hostility in the diverse hospital environment. Until now. Oh nothing will be said. No one will get hurt. There will just be a silent expression of disapproval, of disgust. Tarnishing something that feels so natural, so deliciously wonderful.

“Don’t let it spoil anything. He’s just small minded. Let’s just enjoy the peace. What time did you book supper at the pub for ?” and she reaches up to Serena’s arm gently pulling her down onto the bed again. “Maybe we have time for a bath first ?” and she nods suggestively towards the claw foot roll top bath peeping through the open bathroom doorway.

 

**********

 

The bath water is still warm. Serena lies pressed back against Bernie, her head nestling against Bernie’s neck. Bernie almost absentmindedly rakes her fingers through Serena’s freshly washed hair. It smells of apple blossom. She kisses the top of Serena’s head.

“Is it always like this ?”

“Like what ?”

“Other people.”

Bernie sighs, “Sometimes. But not always.”

“It must have been hard for you. That silent disapproval. It hurts. I didn’t realise.”

“You get used to it. You clock it. You move on. Not everyone is like that.”

Serena falls quiet. She pulls herself up to standing and climbs out of the bath. Still dripping she kneels at the side of the bath and leans in to kiss Bernie, her lips pressing against Bernie’s, soft and hard at once, deep. Chocolate and honeycomb.

“You are my hero,” she says as she pulls back.

She stands and holds out her hand to Bernie. Bernie takes it, as she too stands and climbs out. She smiles as Serena leads her to the bed, grabbing a large white towel as they pass.

Supper at the pub can wait a while yet. They have another hunger to sate first.

 


	2. Rutland

They are settling down to watch TV. It has been a long week. The Thai takeaway is on order and the wine is already opened and catching its breath before they start to drink it.

“How about something more…..classical ?” Serena suggests as they scroll through the viewing options.

Bernie doesn’t much care. So long as it involves Serena, in her arms, on the sofa, plus food and wine.

“You choose something then. I’m easy.”

Serena teases, “Never easy… But always worth the challenge my darling.” She nestles into Bernie’s outstretched arm, “How about this ?”

Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. A period drama. Not their usual fare.

“Really ?”

“Why not ? A bit of a change. And… I have reasons.”

Bernie waits for her to enlarge upon this statement. But Serena says nothing more. Bernie isn’t really bothered. So long as she doesn’t have to think too much. She kisses Serena’s temple and pulls her nearer.

“Ok then.”

Bernie must have dropped off because the next thing she knows Serena is saying her name.

“Bernie ? Are you watching ?”

Serena has frozen the frame. Bernie has no idea why. The screen seems to have a number of young women in regency costume giggling as a carriage pulls up outside some rather large house, the walls of which are hidden beneath lush climbers.

“Sorry. Must have nodded off for a few moments. What have I missed ?”

“This. The parsonage.”

“You’ve lost me.” Bernie hasn’t a clue what she is on about.

“Oh Bernie. This is where I’ve booked for us next weekend. We’re going to stay there….at the parsonage. It’s a B&B. In Rutland. I thought it might be fun…..”

Bernie perks up. Serena’s latest surprise. She gives her a squeeze in gratitude.

“It sounds and looks lovely…..so long as we don’t have to tog up like that. All those dreadful period hair do’s. Not my sort of thing at all,” she laughs.

 

************

 

It is a bright autumnal day when they pull up outside the parsonage. It isn’t one of course. Well not now. There is a church to its side, so maybe once it actually was. It looks exactly like it did on the screen. The tyres of Bernie’s car crunch across the forecourt announcing their arrival.

Serena gets out of the car first and approaches the front door whilst Bernie, as usual, attends to their luggage in the boot. A woman comes to the door, opening it to greet them with a broad smile.

“Welcome. Do come in.”

Bernie follows close behind Serena.

“Oh, I do believe I’ve made a terrible mistake !” the woman draws back as Bernie approaches.

Not again, Bernie thinks.

She continues, “I’ve given you a double room. I’m so sorry. I’ve not got a twin room free. I must have got the booking wrong.”

Serena has not missed a beat, “Please don’t worry. It’s fine.”

But the woman seems to be getting herself into quite a state.

“It has a large bed,” she offers by way of compensation.

Serena, trying hard not to laugh and not to catch Bernie’s eye, replies with the utmost sweetness, “A large bed will be splendid.”

And they follow her into the house, and up the polished well worn wooden staircase to the room in question.

The woman fusses around them uncomfortably, showing them the bathroom, the kettle and the seemingly rather dodgy electrics that need to be navigated to make it work. She doesn’t even glance at the sizeable but solitary bed. And then she disappears.

 

************

 

“What is it about me ?” Bernie chuckles, as Serena throws herself onto the indeed large very double bed, trying to make light, “Do I have horns or something ?”

They have grown thick skins by now. Shuck off these reactions with a shared laugh. But it does gnaw a bit. They don’t feel “other”- until others point out they are. It rankles.

“Is it so very hard to imagine that two women, of a certain age, are with each other, together, wanting to sleep with each other ?” Bernie is growing weary of it now.

Serena is not going to let this spoil anything. She looks intently at Bernie. Her eyes are dark and she bites gently at her lower lip.

“Darling, I don’t just want to sleep with you….I want to fuck you senseless…”

Bernie gulps softly. Heat rises at the back of her neck. God she loves Serena in this mood.

Serena continues, “How about we find out just how big this bed really is…….right now ?”

And she crooks her finger, beckoning Bernie to join her.

As Serena tugs at her jeans, Bernie decides this is an excellent idea, undoing the button, unzipping the fly, and pulling them down, discarding them somewhere behind her. Serena does the same with her own before pulling Bernie down onto the bed, climbing astride her, and lifting her arms to shuck off her top, leaving Bernie to feast her eyes on the lace of her newly purchased bra. Bernie gives a moan of appreciation. Serena pushes her back as she crawls up, hovering over Bernie’s face. Bernie scents her arousal and reaches up to taste Serena through the thin silky material of her already damp underwear. She hears Serena’s intake of breathe.

“Not yet soldier, not yet.”

And Serena leans back and reaches behind her to slip her fingers beneath the waistband of Bernie’s underwear. She strokes her gently, then more firmly, until she feels the rhythm and cant of Bernie’s hips beneath her, hears Bernie’s plea, “Oh fuck, Serena. Please. Fuck me.”

So she does. The fingers of one hand sliding, repeatedly, inside her lover, those of the other firmly gripping the head board to steady herself, as she rises and falls above Bernie’s face. Bernie loses sense of anything else as she reaches for Serena with her mouth. Allows herself to drown in the sensations of Serena’s thrusts and the scent of her intoxicating musk. There is nothing but this moment, as Serena chases her to the edge. When she comes, it is with a loud guttural groan, followed by Serena’s own yell of pleasure.

If their hostess was in any doubt as to their intentions, such doubt is most certainly, and most audibly, now dispelled.

 

 

 


	3. Venice

It is their fifth anniversary. Serena suggests they mark it with a trip to somewhere special. And what could be more romantic than strolling alongside little canals, sitting side by side in a gondola. It doesn’t take much to sell the idea to Bernie.

And here they are. Venice. And it is hot. And they are lost.

They are looking for a pensione that Serena has booked for them. It had good reviews on Trip Advisor. But can they find it ? It is somewhere around here, Serena is sure. But it seems that in Venice it is not entirely clear where “here” actually is – no handy road names, no roads… Bernie is getting quite tetchy in the sticky heat. Her shirt is sticking to her back, and a trickle of sweat is slowly running down the side of her face as she stands, goodness knows where, with their wheelie bags as Serena wanders off to accost some unsuspecting but hopefully native Venetian with her phrasebook Italian. She just wants to be there already, to shuck off her clothes and stand under a cool shower. Instead she is swatting off some sort of airborn insect eager to suck on her sweaty skin.

“It’s just around the corner, apparently,” Serena returns, “Come on.”

Bernie huffs and follows dragging both wheelies behind her, feeling and looking like the hired help.

It turns out to be an unassuming building. A small name plaque and number and a rather severe looking pull door bell. Serena pulls it. Eventually a young woman answers, and, with a smile but no english, welcomes them in. She takes them up some equally unassuming stairs, past a large room which Bernie gathers is where breakfast is provided, then up along a short corridor to their room at the end. She opens the door to the room, presses the key into Serena’s hand and then disappears back off down the corridor.

The room is not what Bernie expected at all. It is so different to the frankly dingy plainness of the stairs and corridors. She has never seen so much fabric in all her life. It is a large corner room, dominated by a voluminous bed, with two armchairs, a dressing table, a stand alone long mirror, and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Not far from it a large ceiling bladed fan turns slowly through the thick air. Everything, it seems, is swathed in a lilac silk fabric. There are windows on two sides, their curtains similarly generous, the material pooling at the floor. On a small table is an ice bucket with a bottle of prosecco chilling in it, two glasses by its side, atop a note written in the most beautiful handwritten script, and in the most perfect english. It hopes they have everything they need, and if not, not to hesitate to ask. The bottle is to welcome them and the note invites them to take it up to the roof terrace from where they will have the most wonderful views across Campo Santo Stefano set out below them.

“Well ?” Serena asks.

Bernie is speechless. It is undoubtedly the most opulent room she has ever stayed in. But there is really only one word for it. A smirk creeps across her face. Camp. And not the camp she’s used to from her military days. She spies the bathroom and walks in. It is almost as large as the bedroom, tiled from floor to ceiling with slate grey tiles. There are double sinks and mirrors along one wall. At the end is a very generous walk in shower with a large monsoon shower head.

Serena walks up behind her, reaches her arms around her and presses up against Bernie’s still damp back, purring softly into her shoulder.

“It’ll do just fine,” Bernie nods, turning and catching her partner’s head in both hands to bring her lips to hers in an enveloping kiss.

 

***********

 

At breakfast the next morning they find the bare room they had walked past the day before transformed. A long white table clothed buffet is spread out along one side. Delicacies displayed on tiered levels. Vases of bright flowers in purple white and green adorn any spare surfaces. There are maybe half a dozen tables. They sit down at one laid out for two, and the young woman from yesterday appears with little menus to take their order for drinks and anything hot they might like.

Bernie surveys the room as Serena studies the menu and ponders over her choices. There are three other tables occupied. She smiles as her eye catches the occupants of one. Two young women, one of whom almost shyly smiles back before turning to her companion. On another, two men seem deep in conversation. A laugh, well a guffaw, rises from the third, a table of four neatly bearded men, and Bernie turns to its source.

“Serena,” she leans in as Serena finishes her order and hands the menu back, “Do you notice anything ?”

“What ?”

“Our breakfast companions ?”

“What about them ?”

Serena turns her head to take in the room. Sees the hand of one of the men fall gently onto that of his companion.

“Oh my,” she gives a small laugh.

“Indeed. I think Ms Campbell, you may somehow have struck gold this time.”

“I had no idea,” Serena laughs, “How utterly wonderful.”

“Well it would explain the décor in the bedroom,” Bernie beams at the delightful cliché.

Bernie reaches for her mobile and taps in the name of the pensione and the words gay friendly, and sure enough, there it is under the heading of gay friendly/owned places to stay in Venice. After five years together it seems they have stumbled on a place where no eyebrows will be raised.

 

************

 

Their days are spent wandering along the tangle of canals that is Venice. The heat is intense, the air thick and close, so they take it slowly, stopping often to sip cool glasses of wine at tiny canal side bars. Night brings little relief. The ceiling fan tries its hardest to cut through the heat but its’ efforts make no impression.

It is a shock of thunder which wakes Serena. It punches through the air and is followed by the sounds of a burst of unrestrained rain. Serena sits bolt upright in bed. As a flash of lightning illuminates the room, she sees Bernie has beaten her to it. She has already sprung out of bed and is kneeling in the armchair, the curtains parted so she can watch the storm unfold as she looks out from the window. She is naked. Serena’s eyes slide down her back. They trace over her gently rounded bottom with its pale perfect cheeks. Serena’s mouth goes dry, at the thought of pressing her lips to them, sinking her teeth into them, burying her face between them. Then she notices the corseted leather panel across Bernie’s lower back, and the straps leading down and round between her thighs. Oh my.

She slides back to lean against the bed head and lets her mind drift back to earlier that night. Heat pools again between her legs as she relives the sensation of Bernie fucking her every which way - back, front, bloody hell even upside down for all she can recall.

Another bolt of lightning, the crash of the thunder nearer now.

“Serena. Come and see this. It’s amazing.” Bernie half turns towards Serena.

“Bernie, you do know,” Serena laughs softly,” you do know you’re still wearing….it, don’t you ?”

“Oh. That,” Bernie shrugs,” I think I must’ve fallen asleep after our … exertions. It’s very comfortable,” she huffs gently.

It was an anniversary present to themselves. A new deluxe harness, so much more solid than their previous flimsy effort. The corseted panel across the back designed for “beauty, comfort and stability” and, they can now both attest, easily living up to such a description.

Bright light again momentarily fills the room. The dildo protruding from the front captured for an instant. The rain outside lashes down on the square below. Another crack of thunder.

“Bernie,” her voice croaking with the need that’s stirring at her core, “do you think you might want to….?”

Bernie is momentarily puzzled, and then she sees Serena’s hand disappear beneath the sheet and slide between her thighs.

“I’ll be right there,” she answers, her tongue running along her lower lip in renewed anticipation.

The show outside can wait. They have one of their own to create.

Happy anniversary indeed.


End file.
